"We want to meet the Eel!"

Teysa stood up straight. She had had just about as much of this indignity as she could stand. Posing as a junkie was one thing, but she wasn't going to play the part any more seriously than she had to. Besides, the smell wafting from the nearest table was tickling in the inside of her nose, and delightfully forbidden memories were bubbling up with it... lounging in the Eel's tent, inhaling the golden smoke...

She shook her head to clear it. "We need to talk to the Eel," she said. She planted her hands on her hips and stared defiantly into the drow's eyes. He chuckled at her and shook his head.

"What makes you think that's on the menu, beautiful?" he asked. One hand reached out to caress Teysa's hair. She ignored it. He was just trying to get a reaction out of her.

"Our names are Teysa and Aliara. She knows us," Teysa insisted. "We did a favor for her before. We figured she might want one again."

"You?" The drow looked her up and down. The scorn in his eyes was clear. "What kind of favor could a worn-out cooze like you do for my lady?"

"The kind you can ask her about yourself," Aliara piped up. She was standing behind Teysa and trembling slightly, but her lip jutted out in angry defiance. "Look, she'll probably reward you for bringing word to her that we're here. And if we're lying, well, I'm sure she'll put you in charge of punishing us." She cocked a hip and stuck out one shapely leg. The drow's eyes followed it and his lips parted slightly. His black tongue flickered out across his lips.

He stared at them for a moment longer, then nodded. "Very well," he said. "You wait here. And don't touch the merchandise." Without further word he turned on his heel and stalked away.

Teysa sat down on the nearest bench, grimacing slightly. Her perch was mostly empty, though a huddled figure at the other end occasionally quivered. Teysa tried not to look at it. In fact, she tried not to look at anything around her. The room looked like some of the painted depictions of the Outer Hells from her childhood, a shadow place full of shriveled souls. They murmured gently and occasionally moaned or cried out. Great clouds of smoke rose above the small groups, some thick and dark, some shimmering gold. Teysa's mouth watered at the faint taste of it, but she reminded herself of her mission. She had not come here to indulge in vice.

After what felt like an eternity the thin man returned. His airy manner had vanished; now his face looked thunderous. For a moment, Teysa worried that the Eel had disavowed her, and she tensed up to fight or run. But the drow pulled up short of her and sketched a mocking bow. "Right this way, my lady. It seems you weren't lying after all."

He led them in a long loop around the stage. As they traveled, the air grew cooler and brighter, the tables farther apart. The patrons here looked more alert. Half of them stared at Teysa as though mentally undressing her; the other half seemed to be counting the coins in her purse. She ignored them all and walked on with her head held high.

Eventually their winding path brought them before a dais near the back of the hall. A slab of veined white marble stood perhaps two feet proud of the floor. On the stage behind it, youthful figures danced and cavorted, spinning and dangling from steel columns that ran to the ceiling. Atop the dais was what looked at first glance like a baroque piece of **** equipment. Bands of steel interlaced and interlocked to form a cup-shaped depression. Leather strips crisscrossed the cup, taut in some places, loose in others. The steel bands were ridged and knurled with irregular protrusions and jagged barbs, so that anyone trying to sit or lie down in the cup would be pricked and cut no matter how carefully they positioned themselves.

Someone was sitting there now. Lounging would perhaps be a better word; the figure sprawled, catlike, with her legs folded over each other and one arm dangling down nearly to the floor. She wore a gown that must, at one point, have been the height of fashion: even now, Teysa could see traces of delicate stitchwork and inlaid pearls and precious stones. The sharp-edged chair had torn it to tattered ribbons. The flesh Teysa could see was covered in cuts and scabs, some still streaked with blood. As they approached, the woman in the chair stirred. In her right hand she held a pipe connected to a long hose that disappeared around behind her "throne." She held the pipe to her mouth for a minute or so, then turned her head and exhaled a gargantuan cloud of smoke. It washed over Teysa and she fell to coughing. The smoke tasted of exotic spices and rotten fruit. Just a hint of it burned her nostrils, and she gagged.

"Well, well, well, well, well." The figure in the chair leaned forward through the swirling cloud of smoke. Her voice was thick and languorous but still youthful-sounding for all that. She looked quite young-- at least, that portion of her face that could be seen between the piercings that festooned nearly every available inch of skin. One nostril bore a large pearl stud, the other three golden rings. Her eyebrows each carried a half-dozen tiny golden barbels tipped with emeralds. One ear was criss-crossed with bars, the other gauged with discs of jade; both were covered in golden rings and silver studs carved to look like animal heads. Her lips, her cheeks... even the bridge of her nose was pierced. When she smiled, her teeth glittered with inlaid stones. She held out one hand, and every inch of every finger was covered in rings: silver, gold, some with diamonds or rubies or sapphires. The hand alone carried more wealth than Teysa had ever owned at once.

"Welcome, my friendth," the Eel said. "What a wonderful thurprithe to thee you again. Do you like my new digth? I've upgraded, ath you thee. The Thity wath tho... thtifling. Here I can really thpread my wingth." She held out her arms to demonstrate. Scraps of lace and silk hung from her elbows and wrists like tattered batwings.

"It's a... lovely place, milady," said Aliara. Teysa buttoned her lip and nodded agreement.

The Eel giggled. "Oh, you're too kind," she said. "Friendth, thith ith Teytha and... Alleria, yeth? Alaria? Thomething like that."

Aliara said nothing.

"I wath proud to do them a little thervithe in the Thity in exchange for a thmall conthiderathon. And now they've come back! Don't tell me you need another audienthe with a priethteth?" Her eyes narrowed. "You know, the latht time I took you to thee thomeone, not a week later thee popped up and thtarted changing thingth. Chathed me right out of buthinethth. Of courthe, I landed on my feet, but if I were a thuthpithiouth perthon I might point the finger at you." She did so now, extending one slim digit so bedecked with rings that the skin was invisible.

Aliara muttered something under her breath. The Eel cocked her head and cupped one hand around her ear. "What wath that, thweetling? I'm afraid it'th rather loud in here." She snapped her fingers, and two burly half-orcs detached themselves from her retinue and stalked off into the shadows. There was a brief pause, then a strangled cry, and the average noise level around the dais dropped perceptibly.

"I said, 'I didn't know eels had feet,' milady," Aliara repeated. Teysa gasped, as did half of the courtiers, and there was a single moment of heart-stopping tension. Then the Eel burst into gales of laughter. She beat her arm against the side of her throne, tearing open a half dozen shallow cuts. "Don't have-- that'th great! I love that! Oh, my dear, I did mithth you. Now," she said, folding her arms in her lap and sitting up primly. "What can I do for you? I'd love to sit and chat all day, but I have buthinethth to attend to."